“Don’t worry about it.” I knew he’d killed before, but he was too good a man to get pleasure from taking a life. Me, now? I had no problem with that at all. “I’m feeling enough satisfaction for the both of us. Miserable sack of shit. And y’know what, Quinn?” I had to get that look of desolation off his face and said the first thing that popped into my head. “If I’d known your hands were lethal weapons, I’d never have screwed with you.”
“No?” His expression eased a bit. “That would have been a shame.”
“Yeah. We’d have missed out on some pretty fucking amazing times.”
“You mean amazing times fucking?” There was a faint smile on his mouth now.
“That too. Your feet cold?” I could see his toes curling against the tiled floor.
“Forget a horse; I’d give my kingdom for a pair of socks.”
I leaned against a wall, and once I had my shoes off, I peeled off my socks and handed them to him. “Sorry, this is the best I can do.”